God’s response to his actions at Bury St. Edmunds. As his marriage to Constance of France was childless, Eustace left no heir.
Eustace’s death seemed an evil omen and removed any hope Stephen had of keeping the throne. The last obstacle to finally ending the Anarchy was removed.8 The king was also battling depression following the recent death of his wife — Queen Matilda, whom he regarded as his strength and most ardent supporter, died of a fever on May 3, 1152. Theobald took the initiative. In the previous months, he had already been in contact with both sides, urging negotiations. They were difficult months, as neither side fully trusted him. Stephen wondered how much of the old loyalty remained after all that had happened; Henry was not quite sure whether the archbishop had really come over to his side. Theobald needed extraordinary tact and prudence — one false step and not only would the little progress he had made be reversed, but the whole venture could come crashing down, soaked with the blood of countless innocent men and women.
In that summer of 1153, Theobald and his entourage, with Thomas at his side, had come looking for Stephen and Eustace to see whether they could be persuaded to agree to some form of negotiation. Later, Theobald met with Henry to see if he, too, could be coaxed to meet Stephen. By this time, Henry was more inclined to listen to Theobald; the archbishop had mediated a quarrel Henry had had with the bishop of Salisbury, so he had proven himself. Theobald had come to the decision that Henry must end up with the crown, regardless of how that was negotiated. In his efforts, Theobald found he had an unexpected ally: Stephen’s brother, his old nemesis Bishop Henry of Winchester. Perhaps through the wisdom of old age or a dawning realization that it was the only way to peace, Bishop Henry had come to regret his part in assisting his brother to seize the throne, and he was now a willing and generous servant of the archbishop in his efforts to bring the whole sorry episode to an end.
For six months, Theobald, with Thomas’s able assistance and shrewd diplomacy, went back and forth from Stephen to Henry. Stephen, heartbroken after Eustace’s sudden death, was no longer as fiery and insistent. At this stage, it seemed he just wanted to keep the crown for himself; he was no longer concerned about the succession. This opened the way to reconciliation. With the agreement of both parties, Theobald arranged a meeting. On November 6, 1153, Stephen and Henry met face-to-face at Winchester and there agreed to end hostilities and settle their differences. Theobald proposed a compromise that might satisfy both parties.
The peace was carefully choreographed. In a grand procession, Ste phen led Henry through the streets of Winchester to his palace, where a great council had gathered. Before them, Stephen declared Henry to be, for all purposes of the law of succession, his son and his heir, the lawful successor to the throne. In doing this, Stephen excluded his younger son William from any claim. Henry would require an oath from Stephen and his supporters to confirm William’s exclusion. The agreement, which Theobald had brokered, would allow Stephen to reign until his death, when Henry would succeed him. In terms of property that had been seized by either side during the civil war (castles and lands), these were to be returned to those who had held them during the reign of Henry I, thus establishing a principle Henry Angevin would seek to use to his advantage during his reign.
It took six weeks to formalize the agreement in writing, and the treaty enshrining the new arrangement and succession was signed when the royal court met for Christmas at Westminster Palace.9 Stephen took his oath excluding William from the succession, and William did homage to Henry as his father’s heir and future king. Stephen’s knights did likewise, with the proviso that their fealty lay with Stephen until his death. Important castles such as the Tower of London and those at Windsor, Oxford, Lincoln, and Winchester were given into the temporary possession of neutral parties until Henry succeeded. The bishops then took oaths of fealty to Henry.
Officially and legally, there was no mention of Thomas during these conferences; he was a mere clerk. Yet, his part in the negotiations was indispensable. Theobald had relied upon him and trusted him implicitly, and Thomas had excelled. The archbishop was, once again, vindicated in his decision to hire this Londoner and invest so much in him; he had received a mighty return. At the first opportunity, Thomas would be rewarded with even greater responsibility and greater trust. There was another who noticed this clerk’s ability — Henry — and perhaps he, too, filed away what he had seen for future reference.
As negotiations to end the civil war were being conducted, Henry Murdac, archbishop of York, died on October 14, 1153. Having failed to win the loyalty of the clergy of his archdiocese, he had had a difficult tenure. He was succeeded by his rival, the much maligned but innocent William FitzHerbert. William had traveled to Rome to plead with the new pope, Anastasius IV, to restore him to the see. The pope agreed, and William was reappointed archbishop on December 20, 1153, returning to York in May 1154. William’s period of office was to be short; he died suddenly a month later, on June 8, Trinity Sunday, after offering Mass. Initial investigations into his death revealed that he had been murdered — the chalice at Mass had been poisoned, and a culprit had been identified: the archdeacon of York, Osbert de Bayeux. Osbert had been a supporter of Henry Murdac and opposed to William’s succeeding to the office. Murder charges were brought against Osbert, and he stood trial in 1156 when the case was transferred to the papal courts, but no record of judgment exists. God’s judgment of William FitzHerbert’s life and character was revealed by the miracles that began to occur when he was invoked by the ordinary people of the archdiocese who had always supported him.
With York vacant for the second time in a year, a neutral candidate was needed. Thanks to Theobald’s efforts, one was found in his archdeacon: Roger de Pont L’Évêque was elected to the second most important see in England. He left Canterbury and traveled to York, where he was consecrated archbishop on October 10, 1154. The office of archdeacon of Canterbury was now vacant.
10
Archdeacon
With Roger on his way up north, Theobald now had a position with which to reward his most able clerk and ensure that his talents could be used to greater effect within the Archdiocese of Canterbury and the Church in England. Thomas had been reaping the rewards of his labors in other ways; of late, he had been gathering benefices from a number of churches.1 This had been supplementing his income and was beginning to provide him with a comfortable lifestyle. His first benefice came from the abbot of St Albans who conferred the church of Bramfield in Hertfordshire on him; later, a grateful bishop of Worcester also conferred the church of Saint Mary-le-Strand in London on him for his assistance in various matters.2 Theobald then granted him the benefice of Otford in Kent as a reward for his work at the Council of Reims. A number of others followed, including one from St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. These “livings” provided Thomas with additional income, which became more necessary as he rose up through the ranks and his expenses increased. Now, with Roger out of the way, he was called into the archbishop’s pres ence to learn that he would receive the greatest office in Theobald’s gift: the archdeaconry of Canterbury. Apart from being a promotion to an important position, the archdeaconry brought with it a very generous income and the hope of even more benefices to come. Life was good for Thomas.
Already in minor orders, Thomas now needed to be raised to the subdiaconate and then ordained to the diaconate in order to take possession of his office.3 The exact date of his ordination is not known, but it is believed to have happened around October or November 1154. When he was in minor orders, marriage was still possible; but now Thomas had to embrace a life of celibacy, though that was not a barrier for some who held such offices. Roger de Pont L’Évêque, for example, is known to have fathered a child at some point in his career. To Thomas’s credit, though he was ambitious and was very happy to accumulate wealth and enjoy the lifestyle he could now afford, he would remain true to the promises he made at his ordination. As he donned the dalmatic, Thomas’s ambitions were finding fulfillment at last.
In terms of dignity, the archdeacon
